OPEN POST

[backwaterbelle]

Here's an open RP post for pretty much all the things. Feel free to use this for picture prompts, tfln, or random scenarios. I may post some memes here at some point too.

No need to contact me first, but please mark if anything's nsfw!

Comments

[backwaterbelle]

[Mystique has often been a subject she didn’t wish to discuss, and even moreso now as she herself wonders if he considered her family wherever and whenever this version hails. It’s already painful enough to see him standing there in the flesh and know it’s not her brother, not the man she loved and seen die, but the uncertainty of it all feels like a whole new type of torture.

His response doesn’t make her feel much better, her chest tightening with sadness for him, unable to imagine what it must have been like to confirm the truth in such manners. Before she can stop herself, Rogue steps closer, instinct guiding her to offer him comfort, to reach out and pull him into a hug.

Except that his expression, his reaction to her proximity halts her mid-movement, her hand dropping back to stuff itself into her jacket pocket as she tries to school the hurt from her features. She doesn’t do too terrible of a job with it, but it’s visible enough to anyone that knows her. When he moves his hands, her gaze falls to them, uncertain herself as to what he’ll do to her. Regardless, there’s no attempt to stop his touch.]

[ecclesiophobic]

[Darling baby sister is what his Rogue is to him, family from the moment he'd let himself see her as anything other than a replacement, the daughter their mother always wanted. If they'd been any younger, he might have a scar across the palm of his hand to match one on hers; as it is, the blood between them are the drops not spilled, the blows that never landed because one was there to watch after the other.

It's easy as breathing to love his sister, and it hurts like hell to see the hurt flash across that face. Her expressions are identical, right down to the way she tries to hide the sting of rejection. If he were a smart man Kurt would exploit that, shove her away like he did Kitty (oh god Kitty is alive here, well and breathing and far away from Piotr.) Kurt isn't a smart man. He's a man in so much pain that it hurts to breathe and a Darkholme to the core, every bit as selfish as his mother.

His hands turn upward in increments, slowly as the hinge on an old door as he extends both of them toward her. A hard swallow, and his voice comes out in a hoarse whisper.] I'm sorry. [Sorry for not being who she thought, sorry for making her hurt, even a little. Sorry.]

[backwaterbelle]

[Rogue watches the movement of his hands with apprehension and bated breath, exhaling in sharp relief when they move into an inviting gesture. Before she can stop herself, she closes the remaining distance and pulls him against her tightly. With complete control of her power, she doesn't hold back, one hand moving up into his hair as she shakes not from the cold, but the dam of emotions breaking and surging through her.

Her eyes feel warm and her cheeks soon feel wet, a breeze adds an icier chill to the damp areas, but she ignores the pain. The jet could land next to them and she's pay it no mind. Her brother's here again.

Except he's not her brother, not the one she knew, she can feel it in his bones, literally. The hurt washes through her in a fresh wave.

At his apology, she hushes him in a soft, soothing voice, fingers petting over his hair before pulling back slowly, enough to see his face and look into his eyes.] Ain't no reason to apologize. [Leaning in, she presses a kiss to his forehead, lingering there with a soft and shaky sigh.]

Literally one million years later.

[ecclesiophobic]

[Her brother would have known she's gained control of her powers. This version of him, for all that he's gleaned enough to know her powers are different (her life is different; the small child that gave them all hope for the future never existed in this world) that little tidbit has slipped by him. He knows she can crush him like a mosquito, that she can move quickly enough that he'd have no chance to defend himself.

Kurt doesn't even try, and is rewarded for his inaction with the kind of tight embrace his own sister rarely dares to offer anyone except her husband. His arms go around her with ease and care, part of him noting that she's more solid here even as he turns his head to avoid brushing her bare cheek with his. She feels like his sister did after the second war, when relative peace and plenty had added the barest softness to her rare hugs.

His hands ball against Rogue's back, and Kurt has to draw in a slow breath through his suddenly stinging nose to keep from sniffling noisily. There's no time for him to notice Rogue leaning in until her lips are against his forehead, and just enough time to think to himself 'I suppose she's angry after all,' before he processes the lack of something very important; the soul-wrenching lurch of Rogue's powers. Blinking, Kurt reluctantly tilts his head back to meet her eyes, confusion writ across his face.] Was-- Rogue, your powers?